


Eddie Kaspbrak Can't Hold His Liquor

by beepbeep_trashmouth



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Aged-Up Losers Club (IT), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Drunk Eddie Kaspbrak, Drunk love confessions, Eddie Kaspbrak Lives, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Fix-It, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Internalized Homophobia, Little bit of angst, Love Confessions, M/M, Mutual Pining, No smut sorryyyy, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:54:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24069181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beepbeep_trashmouth/pseuds/beepbeep_trashmouth
Summary: (Aka the events that SHOULD have happened in the 2019 movie thank you very much).After the final confrontation with Pennywise, both Richie and Eddie decide to cope by getting shit faced drunk and it leads to some very interesting revelations, considering the fact that Eddie is a god damn lightweight.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak & Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 9
Kudos: 89





	Eddie Kaspbrak Can't Hold His Liquor

It almost felt too good to be true. It was gone. After centuries of preying on children and slinking around in the sewers beneath Derry, Pennywise was finally gone. The Losers had done what they came here to do. Which meant once more, it was time to leave Derry again. Time to return to their separate lives all over the country. The Losers were all completely exhausted from their battle and decided to get a good nights’ rest before all returning to their respective homes and lives in the morning.

Richie Tozier, on the other hand, found himself not yet ready to leave.

Instead of showering and changing out of his filthy, mustard yellow Hawaiian shirt, he sat on the floor of his hotel room staring at a wall. He was numb from both alcohol and shock. As if fighting a demonic clown- twice- wasn’t enough, Richie now had the lovely image of Eddie dying permanently tattooed in his brain. During the fight, Richie found himself captured by Pennywise’s deadlights. He had tapped into the darkest, most private parts of Richie’s brain and showed him something he’d never be able to forget for as long as he lived. It all happened in real time; he watched as Eddie ran to rescue him from Pennywise.

He felt Eddie touch his cheek as he made sure he was okay.

He felt Eddie’s warm blood pour over him when Pennywise impaled him right through the middle.

He watched in horror as the life drained from Eddie’s eyes, as Richie stood, helpless to stop the bleeding.

Helpless to save him.

Richie choked back a sob and buried his head in his hands. He felt absolutely broken. How does one recover from what he saw? Up until a day ago, Richie didn’t even remember Eddie Kaspbrak existed because of whatever spell Pennywise had over Derry.

He didn’t remember Eddie, with his stupid cute fanny packs and reliance on an inhaler that didn’t actually do shit.

Eds, with his stupid red running shorts that left Richie physically unable to breath when they were kids.

Eddie Spaghetti, with his stupid little nose that scrunched up in the stupidest, cutest way whenever he laughed.

The worst part about returning to Derry didn’t turn out to be the killer clown- it was remembering Eddie.

Remembering the boy Richie had been in love with since he was eleven.

Remembering the time he carved their initials on the Kissing Bridge because Eddie was the only person who made this fucked up world feel right.

How could Richie just go back to living his meaningless, empty life in Los Angeles now that he remembered? How could he continue making jokes during his stand up routines about his non-existent girlfriends, desperately trying to convince the world- and himself- that he was straight? How could he just leave the love of his life behind, again, now that he remembered everything? Richie took off his cracked glasses and tried to wipe the tears out of his burning, bloodshot eyes. He grabbed the whiskey bottle beside him and went to take another swig, only to find the bottle empty. He tossed it on the floor beside him and shakily made his way to his feet. Might as well find something else to drink- there was no point in even attempting to sleep when every time he closed his eyes, all he could see was Eddie bleeding.

* * *

Richie dragged his feet down the steps and turned the corner to find that someone else was already sitting at the small hotel bar. Someone in an all too familiar red hoodie.

Shit.

Richie quickly decided he would just grab a random bottle of whatever and dart back to his room without speaking to Eddie. Any kind of long goodbye would only make things harder. He made his way to the bar, but absolutely couldn’t keep his mouth shut upon seeing Eddie.

“Whoa Eds what the fuck man? You look like hell!” he exclaimed, unable to stop himself from cracking a smile at the sight before him.

Eddie was a germaphobe unlike any other, yet here he sat, unshowered and still in his clothes from earlier. Dirt still smeared all over his face. The small scrapes and cuts on his cheek still uncleaned with no bandage. Richie thought he’d sooner see pigs fly.

“That’s the first fucking thing you decide to say to me all day, Trash Mouth?” Eddie retorted, not even looking up from the drink in his hands, the anger evident on his face.

Instead of smirking at the nickname, Richie instead found himself frowning at Eddie’s outburst.

“What the hell is your problem?” he asked, the jovial, playful tone in his voice completely vanished.

He turned from Eddie to choose a bottle from the shelf.

“You’re my fucking problem, Rich!” Eddie suddenly shouted as he slammed his glass down hard on the polished wood surface of the bar.

Richie flinched a little from the sound. He unwrapped his fingers from around the neck of a bottle and turned to face Eddie. His eyes met with Eddie’s to see they were swollen and red from crying. They seemed a bit unfocused; he definitely was not at all sober. Richie walked the few feet between the shelf and the bar, coming to a stop right in front of Eddie and placing his hands on the bar in between them.

“Oh uh… Eds, I’m-” Richie started nervously.

“No, just shut up. And I told you don’t fucking call me Eds,” Eddie cut Richie off.

Richie, for once in his life, made no sound as he watched the smaller man before him. Eddie looked like he had a million thoughts on his mind, but couldn’t force his brain to slow down enough to form a single coherent one.

“I-I’m sorry for yelling. It’s just… You’ve just really… confused me these past couple of days…” Eddie started slowly.

“Confused you?” Richie asked dumbly.

“Well I mean not you. You didn’t like...do anything wrong. I mean… actually you did? God. Fuck. Listen, I don’t fucking know man. I don’t drink, ever. Myra hates it. Doesn’t let me. And here I am... Drinking like it’s my 21st birthday. And I can’t handle my liquor obviously and I’m just… I-I’m...I’m so confused, Rich.”

Richie just watched Eddie ramble, remaining completely silent. He didn’t even know how to begin to respond, but before he got the chance, Eddie began talking again, staring at his own fidgeting hands.

“I just? I didn’t imagine making it out of there alive. I didn’t think I would actually defeat It. And then I did. We did. And now what? I’m supposed to go back to Myra? New York? God I hate New York, Rich! It’s filthy and there’s s-so many people a-and so many germs and Myra’s there and… oh God, Myra! I hate her too!”

Richie’s eyes go wide at the sudden declaration.

“You hate your own wife?” he asked flatly.

“I-I... Yeah. I do,” he nodded, “I didn’t even realize how much I hated her until I came back here. To Derry. And I remembered everything, Richie. The placebos my mom made me take that I don’t even need and this stupid fucking inhaler that I carry around like my life depends on it… a-and I remembered you too?”

Eddie finally brought his eyes to meet Richie’s, whose heart started pounding a mile a minute. He suddenly felt unable to think or speak.

“Y-You… remembered… me?”

Eddie looked insanely uncomfortable as he started biting down hard on his lip, as if to prevent himself from speaking again. He nodded slowly in thought, eyes darting around the room trying to find something, anything other than Richie to look at.

“I remembered your stupid ugly glasses and those ugly Hawaiian shirts you used to wear... And how you always called me ‘Eds’ and ‘cute’ and I’d tell you to fuck off? Even though I secretly liked it? And how I would sit on top of you in the hammock in the clubhouse and pretend like I was trying to annoy you but really… I-I just wanted to… touch you.”

Eddie’s entire face burned bright red as he dropped his head into his hands on the bartop.

“I-I was in love with you Rich… All those years… And when I left Derry I just... forgot? And then we come back home… 27 years later… And I remembered everything. I realized that I don’t love Myra and never did because… I’m fucking gay and... in love with you.”

Eddie’s voice sounded slightly muffled from talking against his hands. He picked up his face and instead tilted his head to rest on his uninjured right cheek, staring solemnly at the bar. Richie simply watched him, caught like a deer in headlights. The butterflies in his chest and stomach were making him feel like a little kid all over again.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry if I disgusted you. Or made you uncomfortable. It’s just… when that clown had you earlier in the deadlights… I thought I’d lost you. I-I just got you back only to lose you. And I just wanted to hold you and never fucking let go and y-you wouldn’t even talk to me after we got out of the sewers! And then you come down here with your stupid Trash Mouth and your stupid smile while I’m absolutely shit faced drunk and can’t help myself. I wasn’t going to say anything to you because I didn’t want to lose you a-as a friend. You just caught me at an unfortunate time and…couldn’t help myself.”

Richie’s heart didn’t slow down throughout the entirety of Eddie’s confession. Eddie said nothing more, still staring at the bartop with glazed over, empty eyes. He looked broken. Richie walked around to the other side of the bar and took a seat next to Eddie. He tenderly reached out to grab Eddie’s free hand, allowing the man to remain with his head on his right arm. The empty look in his eyes now reflected a mix between shock and terror. Richie took a shallow breath and cleared his throat.

“I… I make all these jokes. During my routines I’ll always throw in a line about how many chicks I’ve banged or talk about how I blow through all these girlfriends... But uh… the truth is I-I’ve never had a girlfriend. Or… you know… liked any girls.”

Eddie lifted his head off his arm and sat up in his chair, tilting his body to face Richie. The fear in his eyes was now replaced with pure anxiety and anticipation. Richie gave him a soft smile and took the opportunity to intertwine their fingers. Eddie’s eyes briefly widened, but he said nothing and held his gaze on the man before him.

“I’ve known pretty much my whole life I guess… even when we were kids- I just couldn’t admit it. Not even to myself. I mean being gay in the eighties in Derry, Maine of all places… I was just scared, man. All the time. Of someone finding out about me. O-Of… you finding out.”

Eddie’s brow slightly raised. Richie tried to ignore how much faster the cute little gesture made his heart race in his chest; it was starting to hurt.

“I-I would purposely sit in the hammock for longer even after my turn ended because eventually I realized that it’d make you sit on my lap… and I liked that. And whenever I made a dumb joke, I… I only looked to see if you were laughing. I didn’t care about making the rest of the Losers laugh. Just you. And God, Eds. Those stupid red shorts you used to wear… Jesus Christ. You don’t know how many times I nearly had a heart attack thinking you’d caught me staring at your ass.”

Richie’s words elicited a small chuckle from Eddie, who was once again blushing red. Richie began laughing too as he used his free hand to grab the back of Eddie’s neck and pull him closer, making their foreheads touch.

“It was always you, Eddie, baby. Even when I couldn’t remember because of that fucking clown… it was always you.”

“Then… W-Why wouldn’t you fucking talk to me earlier?” Eddie suddenly blurted out, sounding incredibly hurt.

Richie winced at the pain he heard in Eddie’s voice. He dropped his head to rest on Eddie’s shoulder and wrapped his arm around the smaller man’s neck.

“I-In the deadlights… I-I s-saw… It was y-you and…I just couldn’t-” Richie tried to choke out, feeling his throat close as more tears threatened to make an appearance.

Eddie cut him off, gently shushing him. With the hand not entwined with Richie’s, Eddie raised his hand to rub the back of Richie’s head and thread his fingers gently through his hair. Richie was slightly shaking beneath his touch.

“You don’t have to tell me. I understand… I-I’m sorry you saw that. But it’s not real Rich… I-I’m here. I’m here, okay? And I’m not leaving you. Not again.”

Richie pulled himself out of Eddie’s shoulder and stared at him, a small, sad smile tugging at his lips. Eddie cupped Richie’s chin and pulled him closer. Eddie planted a soft, sweet kiss on Richie’s cheek. When Eddie began to pull back, Richie tilted his head and caught Eddie’s lips with his own. Richie felt the smaller man briefly tense in shock, but he quickly melted into the kiss, tilting his head more to deepen the kiss. Richie moved his arms to wrap around Eddie's waist, pulling him closer. Eddie made a desperate noise in the back of his throat and threw his arms around Richie's neck, his fingers once again finding themselves entangled in Richie's curls.

The kiss didn't last nearly long enough- there was no way for one kiss to make up for over 27 years of longing.

27 years of needing and wanting and wishing and hoping.

Eventually, both men were forced to pull apart, gasping for air. They resumed touching foreheads, both blushing, breathless, and smiling like idiots.

Suddenly, neither man felt fear. For once, they felt right, like they had found exactly where they belonged.

And they had.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey y'all.
> 
> So funny story. I've literally been writing since like middle school but have never published anything until now. And the only reason I wrote/published this was because I took a really awesome queer literature class this semester. Our final project was to re-write a story but add queer elements to it so I was like "oh yeah babey gay Reddie time."
> 
> Hope y'all like this :')


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